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The Cruise
All Aboard.

Once upon a time, my wife Sherrie, engrossed in the travel section of the Sunday newspaper informed me, "Let's go on a cruise."
"What for?" I asked.
"We need a change. We haven't done anything exciting for a long time." This wasn't exactly true, even though I'm pushing seventy-seven.
"We went to the movies only two weeks ago," I reminded her. "Did you forget?"
"Shut up. We're going. I'm calling them right now."
"Whatever." I knew better than to argue with her.
We hadn't been on a cruise for a number of years and thought that this would be a welcome change from our usual tranquil, uneventful life style. My wife contacted the travel agent and negotiated a no charge cabin upgrade by asking for the "Senior Citizen's" discount, which was granted in spite of the fact that such a thing was not part of the cruise lines pricing policy. In addition she also requested, and was granted, a deck upgrade. "Ask and ye shall receive".

We were to depart the port of San Pedro on a Sunday afternoon. My wife started packing on Saturday afternoon so that we would spare ourselves the stress of a last minute panic to get packed, which is our usual practice. The early packing effort was terminated and postponed, to be completed early Sunday morning which should be a "no problem" process as it appeared that the Saturday effort was close to completing the packing.
Things didn't go too well due to unanticipated problems
"Where are my footsies?" I looked at my feet. I wasn't wearing them.
"Did you see my blue blouse?" I told her the last time I wore her blue blouse a vice cop took it away from me.
"Did you see my other bra?" I informed her that I didn't see a bra, and if I did I wouldn't know if it was her other bra or the original bra. I added that she should ask the cop; maybe he took it along with the blue blouse.
After a countless number of frenzied searches for vital articles of cosmetic accouterments and feminine clothing, which included foul weather gear (it had not rained where we were headed for forty-three years) and snowshoes (the Mexican coast is relatively snow free), six and one half pairs of shoes (I am not sure of what her intentions were for the half pair), along with enough medicines to stock the Mayo clinic, and enough cosmetics to beautify the next ten years of Miss Universe contestants. Finally, we departed for San Pedro with the car so overloaded that it rested near solid on its springs, which bottomed out every time we

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